


The Hound's Mad Dream

by redtaxi



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Dark, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-20
Updated: 2013-04-20
Packaged: 2017-12-09 00:09:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/767698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redtaxi/pseuds/redtaxi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An accompany piece to A Storm of Swords. The Hound has a maddening dream on his travels with Arya to the Twins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hound's Mad Dream

I own nothing. This is just the result of the disturbing effects GRRM's writings can have on a young girl.

He laid still in the dark. He could still hear the battle rage outside, the crackling of flames were louder to him than the screams they devoured. He was trapped, the bindings of which he could not see, tied him to the bed. He was struggling against them, when suddenly he heard movement outside. Soft footsteps followed the opening of a heavy door and then without delay, he felt it. The bed hardly dipped with her weight but he moved away to escape the soft breath that blew across his face. She leaned over him and he watched a pale finger reach out to touch his stingy cheek. Salty water came down his face as he heaved again, angrily trying to pull away from her.

"No. Don't touch me!" He growled as her hand stroked his scarred cheek. She of course ignored him and continued with her torture, her fingers running gently over his face. He wept, fat salty dollops stuck to his face till her hand finally disappeared from his sight.

It was soon replaced by her lips. He furiously pushed her away from his face. Mad little bird, her mind must have fluttered away along with her maiden dreams. He couldn't struggle enough as her face came down again, kissing him with warm lips. They fell everywhere, as if to say they were not afraid of him. He crushed his eyes shut as he could not bear to see her bestow such shame upon them both.

"Enough!" He rasped weakly. He looked up at the little broken bird, her face paler than the winter she belonged to and rasped again. "Enough. Please...I cannot." She forces me to beg, her faithful dog.

This time, he did not feel the warmth of soft lips on his skin but rather a cold edge. He watched her Tully eyes turn a savage blue as she pushed a dagger to his neck.

"Sing!" She spoke in a voice, not unlike his own. He struggled, finding her weight against his unbearable.  
She then growled, "Sing!" He recognized her voice no longer as the courteous words of his little bird but the barks of the Hound.

She sharply tilted the dagger into his neck till the skin was breached. "Sing!" She growled louder but he could not give her what she wanted, what she desperately needed.

"I cannot!" He cried out. "Left you to the true dogs, I did! Oh your bloody gallant ser left his fair maiden to burn..." He wept madly now, driven wild with guilt. He barely notice her hand slip from his neck nor did he feel her warmth leave his side. He could still hear the yells of poor souls, ravaged by fire but it was his own howls, in here, that haunted him.


End file.
